I would never walk in that cemetery again, and I would not
tell my mother, how I came upon my father, weeping for another women and a
future lost to circumstance.

Carolynnwith2ns 9:42am

Special recognition for delicious word play!

Her favorite flower was a lily; the only flour I liked was on
fried chicken.

Danny Konczynski 7:29am

Special recognition for entries that were about LONG GONE!

Curt David 11:55am

french sojourn 4:32pm

Special recognition for entries that weren't quite stories but were memorable:

donnaeverhart.com 9:05am

Terri Lynn Coop 1:17am

And here are the finalists:

(1) Colin Smith 10:24am

I'm so sleepy, the bird crap on my lily pad is the double of a
painting in a New Jersey art gallery—the one where I met the girl who changed
me. How was I to know she was a witch? Now I dread French accents and the smell
of garlic.

My stomach lurches as I'm whipped up in a small hand.

"Put that down!" a man says, and the hand does, but not before
planting a kiss on my head.

"That’s my princess," I hear the voice say before I drop below the
water's surface.

I can't breathe...

(2) Sheila JG 10:39am

Superstition is an art form for some athletes, their pre-race
routines a flowing work of intricate creativity meant to evoke confidence. Lily
was no different. As she approached the starting line she greeted each hurdle
in turn.

The moves were always the same. Double kiss the medallion. Tuck it under the
jersey. Three jumps in the air. Not two, not four. Caress the track surface;
absorbing the texture, the firmness, even the subtle colors of it. Kiss it for
luck.

And then the inevitable hand on her shoulder. “Ma’am, step away please.”

And finally, her son, “Mom, you’re embarrassing me again!”

(3) Steven 11:18am

Another double deadlock on I-277. Exiting my steel and glass
tomb, I amble through the apocalyptic scene. Ignoring the pain of arthritic
knees, I follow the jersey barrier to the familiar spot that had claimed two
souls and one body years ago.
Red beacons sear. Uniformed men toil to free a teen girl from a flaming Accord.
I pray their skills have improved, but they scurry away, heads downcast.
Then I see her.
My heart pauses.
My Lily reaches in and effortlessly completes the task the strapping men could
not.
Turning briefly, she blows a final kiss before the explosion.

(4) Joseph 9:10pm

DOUBLE OR NOTHING
Carmen maneuvered the scope to her right eye. She tried to squint, but her face
refused to cooperate.

"Damn Botox," she grunted, blinking severely. "Damn
doctor."

"You won't feel a thing," he'd said. "Just a pinch and a
kiss."

'I'll show him a pinch and a kiss,' she thought. 'Then we'll see who's the real
artist.'

She peered into the scope again. The target slouched on the sofa in a striped
jersey. There was a lily over his left breast. A least, she thought it was a
lily. Shrugging, she closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

'One down...'

(5) Calorie Bombshell 9:45pm

“All Chinese girls are named Lily.”

“No, they’re not.” My words echo numb from years of oxycodone and vodka doubles
straight up. “Some are named Pearl. Anyway, what difference does it make?”

“Just got me thinking about our little Emma….”

“Don’t think.” The duffle bag beside me stirs. “Just drive.” I blink away the
smoke from his cigarette. “Turn left on Jersey Street. They should be waiting
for us outside.”

“With cash?”

“Yeah, enough until the next time.”

“Maybe we could keep it. Raise her.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” I lie, then air kiss little Emma on her
sleeping forehead.

(6) Michael Seese 9:10am

Art handed his wife a glass.

“This is Bordeaux. Do you remember the first time we had it?”

“No,” Lily said.

“Paris. On our honeymoon. That was some week. Not bad for a couple of Jersey
kids. Do you remember it?”

“No.”

“Now this,” he said, placing chocolate in her palm, “is from Belgium. We went
there, too. Remember?”

“No.”

“It’s OK, dear. I do.” He remembered it all. But, Alzheimer’s had not ravaged
his brain.

“I miss you,” Art said. He kissed Lily, took her hand, double-checked to ensure
the garage door was closed, and started the car.

And the winner in a VERY close contest is Michael Seese.

Michael, drop me an email and we'll get your prize in the mail to you!

Congratulations to all the finalists and a big thank you to everyone who entered. I really like seeing what you all do with the word prompts!

Fantastic! Just loved your entry Michael - heartbreak in 100 words! Well done to the other finalists as well - I thought this was a particularly strong field and a joy to read. Thanks indeed to all who took part and have helped brighten up my weekends of late. Finally, and as always, many thanks to Janet for taking the time to organise these contests.

(Apologies if this is the second similar comment from me - blogger went a bit haywire when I logged in and I think my first comment was lost).

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